Fight or Flight
by Jay 2K Winger
Summary: The chronicle of two men who decide to make an opportunity and step into the big leagues. UPDATE: 1-Oct-2012, Chapters 1 & 2; Alex & Mars get fed to the meat grinder, but then come back for more.
1. The Meat Grinder

"FIGHT OR FLIGHT"

CHAPTER ONE: THE MEAT GRINDER

It is a well established fact that when the WWE comes to town, it sends out a call to local wrestling talent, having them come to the arena with the potential of using them later that night in the show. It is also a well established fact that the fates of said local talent are often not kind ones, frequently suffering a severe beating at the hands of members of the roster.

Why, then, does said local talent keep taking the WWE up on these offers? For starters, even if they're not used, it's a chance for the local talent- who are frequently early in their wrestling careers- to meet up with veterans and learn from them. Secondly, even if they're not used, the WWE does pay the local talent at least enough for gas and maybe a hot meal, with more offered if they do work a match. Thirdly, the exposure the local talent receives by being on television- even if they are just getting their backsides thoroughly handed to them- can provide a temporary boost to one's career. And lastly, every so often, the local talent impresses someone backstage enough that they get brought back and possibly get the opportunity to sign a contract, as happened in the case of one Colin Delaney.

All of this explains why a young man like Alex Dunbury was backstage at _WWE Smackdown _in St. Louis. Truth be told, he wasn't actually from St. Louis, just being in town for a few indie shows, but the call went out and he answered. He was a lean young man with a mass of tousled blond spikes for hair. His tights were black with a number of multicolored swatches, with tassels lining the seams. He paced the halls backstage near the production area. One or two other local wrestlers sat or lurked nearby. Like Alex, they were all waiting to see if they'd get told to report to the ring. They'd all already introduced themselves to the producers and every member of the roster they could find, as decorum and protocol dictated. Now came the waiting.

Waiting was something with which Alex had always had problems. He paced with restless energy, periodically bouncing from foot to foot, shaking out his hands and arms to try to burn off the nervous energy. One of the other locals peered up at him sourly from under the black bandana headband that kept his longish hair out of his eyes. "Will you sit down and stop pacing? You're pissing me off with all that pacing around." This local wore black athletic trunks and MMA-style gloves. Alex vaguely remembered his name was Marshal or something.

"Can't help it," Alex replied, pausing and looking up at the ceiling. "Too nervous to sit still. Never been someone to just sit and meditate all Zen-like or something." Marshal just gave a grunt tugged his bandana lower, partially covering his eyes. Alex had seen him around at some of the indie shows he'd worked, but it had always been a distant sort of acquaintance. The two had never met in the ring, so Alex couldn't really get any sort of measure of the man.

His thoughts were interrupted when one of the producers stepped out of Smackdown GM Booker T's office. "All right, I need two guys for a match in two segments." The producer checked his clipboard, then looked around at the local talent, pointing at random, and as fate would have it, at Alex and Marshal. "You and you. You set to go?"

"Yes, sir," Alex nodded, as Marshal punched a fist into his palm. "Been ready," he replied.

The producer pointed down the corridor. "Follow the signs to the gorilla position, and head to the ring when the guys there give you the sign." He shrugged to the others when they protested. "Luck of the draw, gentlemen. Better luck next time."

"I dunno whether to be pissed off or relieved," one of the other locals opined as he glared at the two lucky wrestlers. "You know it's probably gonna go bad for you."

"Hope springs eternal," Alex replied with a grin. "Who knows? Maybe we'll get lucky and win."

"Sh'yeah," another local rolled his eyes. "And maybe monkeys will come flying out of my ass." He turned to Marshal and held out a fist, which the other man tapped. "Best of luck to ya, Tetch. Try not to get killed."

"Remember who you're talking to," Marshal smirked. "I'm friggin' immortal."

* * *

And that seemed to be that, as the two started down the corridor toward the gorilla position. Alex felt almost jittery as the nervous energy came back in full force. Marshal, meanwhile, just stoically marched onward. "First time doing this kind of thing?" Alex tried to make small talk.

Marshal just nodded his head in response.

"Think we actually stand a chance of winning against whoever they got us in the ring with?"

This got a shrug.

Alex regarded him sidelong, then hazarded, "You're not much of a talker are you?"

Marshal's nonverbal vocabulary increased with an emphatic shake of the head of confirmation.

In the gorilla position, one of the producers looked up, then asked them, "All right, which two are you guys? I need to know so Lillian gives the right names."

"Alex Dwight Dunbury." "Mars Tetch."

The producer nodded, typing something into his laptop. Then he cupped his headset, relaying the information to a stagehand at ringside. Out in the ring, the previous segment was winding down and they were breaking for commercial. Alex looked around. "So who are we wrestling? The guy at the GM's office didn't say-"

"Just shut up, man," Marshal (or Mars, as it seemed he preferred to be called) interrupted. "Whoever they are, I'm gonna kick their ass." Now he was swinging out his arms, stretching his neck and jogging in place to loosen up. His boast just drew an amused chuckle from the crew who overheard it.

The producer looked up again. "All right, head on out. When we come back from break, you should already be in the ring. Don't waste too much time pandering to the crowd, we got a timetable to maintain."

And so Alex and Mars headed out to the ring, accompanied by the music of the Smackdown theme. They got a quiet reaction, which both of them were expecting. The overwhelming majority of the crowd didn't know who they were, and why should they care? Apart from Alex's tassels and colorful tights, they had nothing distinctive about them, not even their own music. Wrestling fans were savvy enough to know what was coming. Even so, Alex threw his hands in the air and pumped his arms to get a brief volley of cheers, slapping hands as he came down the ramp, in sharp contrast to Mars' beeline to the ring. Alex vaulted over the top rope and joined him in the ring as the lights came back up to indicate a return from break. Lillian Garcia stood by one corner, giving them a polite smile.

A cameraman trained his lens on them. Mars barely glanced at it, instead staring up the ramp as he pushed his bandana up out of his eyes. Alex flashed a grin and a V-for-Victory as he bounced from foot to foot. The camera turned away, and Alex now looked to Lillian. "So no one told us who we're wrestling. Can I get a hint?" Lillian glanced at him and gave him an almost pitying look. Right on cue, the TitanTron lit up, and Allen got his answer.

**"FEED ME."**

Alex's face fell as he turned to stare up the ramp. _Oh, God, no._ A low bass started thrumming as the voice growled, **"FEED. ME. MORE."** He turned to Lillian with a terrified expression, but she just gave him a wan smile and a shrug. He turned to Mars, whose expression had barely changed, but he saw the slight slump to his shoulders. _I bet he's reconsidering his boast now._ **"FEED. ME. MORE!"**the TitanTron bellowed as the music picked up further, and now Alex could see the monstrous bulk of Ryback standing at the top of the ramp, raising his arms and chomping his teeth as "Meat on the Table" started blaring through the arena.

"We're boned, aren't we?" Alex said to Mars.

The other man sighed and shrugged, waggled a hand noncommittally, before finally giving a reluctant nod. "Yeah, probably," Mars agreed, "but there's such a thing as going down fighting."

"And how well's that worked out for other people?" He swallowed nervously as he watched Ryback climb onto the apron and glare at them. "I think we should rush him, both at the same time."

Now Mars gave him a pointed look. "And how well's _that_worked out for other people?" He glanced only briefly toward Lillian as she finished announcing the two men already in the ring as Ryback stood across from them, fingers clenching and unclenching as his nostrils flared, snorting with his perpetual fury. Then Mars shrugged to Alex again. "Well, here goes nothing."

Alex nodded. "All right, then. Let's do this!" With that, he charged across the ring toward their opponent, but Ryback just grabbed him by the throat and glared at him.

"What the hell were you thinkin'!?" Ryback bellowed at him, hurling him back into the corner, turning back just in time to catch Mars in his arms, then fling him back and over his head with an overhead belly-to-belly suplex. Mars' body crashed into Alex's upside down, causing the young man to slump down against the turnbuckles. Mars rolled to his feet, a bit wobbly, turning to face Ryback again, who slapped his shaven head and roared, _"STUPID!"_He caught Mars' kick, then hauled him in, hooking his arm under that leg and clamping his massive hands together, swinging Mars overhead with a leg-capture suplex.

He got to his feet and grunted with disdain down at Mars, turning just in time for Alex to fly from the top turnbuckle. He caught him effortlessly, shaking his head, then heaved him up over his head with a gorilla press. He turned in a circle, legs pistoning, then dropped him onto Mars, who was just getting up. Alex groaned and looked down at Mars as he started to get up. "You okay, man?"

"You just landed on me," Mars wheezed. "How the hell you think I'm doing?"

"Sorry, man." Alex got to his feet and saw Ryback charging. Instinctively, he darted forward, ducking underneath his thick bicep and cannoning off the ropes. He came back and leapt into the air, arm outstretched, only to harmlessly bounce off Ryback's chest. They both stared at each other, then down at the man's pectoral, then back at each other. Ryback snarled and smacked a hand into his bald head, roaring at him. In that moment of distraction, Mars jumped onto his back, wrapping his arms around his head and neck as he attempted to apply a sleeper hold. Alex gaped, then grinned. "Hold him, man, hold him!" He wound up his arm and unleashed a chop to Ryback, then grimaced, shaking out his hand. It was like striking a brick wall.

Then Ryback's foot shot out and kicked him back into the ropes. As Alex came back, he had a moment's glimpse of Ryback's arm before he was caught with the Meat Hook. His body spun in the air before crashing, nearly insensate on the mat. His eyes rolled in his head as he saw that Mars was still clinging tenaciously to Ryback's head, but the monster just reached back with his arms, one catching Mars' head, the other a leg, and then dropped back into a sitting position, snapping Mars off with a backpack stunner. Ryback got to his feet, veins throbbing as he roared out, with a definitive sweep of his arms, _"FINISH. IT!"_

Neither man was in full command of their senses at that point, and so neither man could give much in the way of resistance as Ryback grabbed them both, hooked them under one arm, grabbed their legs and heaved them up onto his shoulders. Alex saw him march around the ring, carrying their weight with ease, and then drop backwards to slam them into the mat with the Shell Shocked. Alex lay on the bottom as Ryback pinned them both for the three count, snarling at the camera, _"Two more for the meat grinder!"_ With that boast finished, Ryback started pumping his arms and screaming out his trademark demand: _"FEED. ME. MORE!"_

* * *

Alex wasn't exactly sure how he and Mars got backstage, but had vague recollections of stagehands helping them to the back. The medics gave them both a cursory check, but pronounced them as fit of health as they could expect, given their recent experience. The other locals were there, congratulating them both for managing to survive, and then... well, it all was still kind of fuzzy. They all ended up at an IHOP after the show. Food was consumed, small talk was had, and some chuckles at the expense of the two men who'd faced Ryback were had as well. Alex took the jibes and ribs with a shrug and grin. Mars just brooded unhappily and eventually excused himself to go to the restroom.

"What's with him?" Alex asked the others.

"Ah, that's just Mars being Tetch-y," one of the locals replied, with what passed for humor. "He doesn't like losing."

Alex considered this, then asked, "So why bother answering a call from the WWE for this kind of thing? I mean, he's shorter than I am, and I'm practically a midget compared to a lot of the guys on their roster." He thought for a moment, an image of a mischievous leprechaun popping up in his memory. "Well, a midget compared to anyone who isn't literally a midget."

Another local shrugged as he tucked into a stack of hotcakes. "Because Mars craves competition, man. I seen him outside the ring, doin' stock work at a Costco. Any time he's not fightin' somebody, it's like he's just goin' through the motions." He waved it off. "Don't worry about him. He's never been a social kinda person." Alex supposed the locals were probably right. They knew Mars better than he did, but even so, he felt kind of bad for his fellow survivor. He poked at his food for a bit, then wolfed it down and stood up, excusing himself and heading to the restroom.

Mars was leaning over the sink, stretching his neck from side to side and grimacing as he massaged a crick on one side. His head snapped up as Alex offered a "hey" of greeting. Seeing who it was, Mars grimaced again. "What do you want?"

Alex regarded him for a moment, then said, "The same thing I think you want."

"Yeah? And what the hell would that be?"

"Another shot at The Ryback."

* * *

He didn't explain himself at the time. They exchanged phone numbers and he told Mars to come by the hotel where he was staying and he'd meet him in the parking lot. They went back out, finished their meals and headed out their separate ways. Alex was staying in an EconoLodge- a chain about which he had few good things to say, but needs must when money is tight. He dragged his gear and other dirty clothes to the laundromat across the street and threw them in the wash. As the machine did its work, he sat in a chair and winced as some of the lingering aches of the beating he'd taken came back for an encore appearance. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes as he breathed steadily, a little trick he'd learned, and let himself drift, as the sensation of the pain faded.

He must have dozed off, because he was awakened by the chirping of his cell phone. It was Mars. "Hey."

"I'm at your hotel. Where are you?"

"Across the street at the laundromat. Come on over, we can talk shop." He rose and checked on his clothes, tossing them into the dryer and setting it to run just as Mars walked in the door.

"You said somethin' back at the IHOP about another shot at Ryback?" Mars gave him a suspicious look. "How the hell we gonna do that?"

Alex leaned against the folding counter as he spoke. "We go to the arena where they're taping _Smackdown_next week, and we come in with the other locals. I checked, they're gonna be in Chicago. It's a bit of a trek, but I know a promoter up there who might put our names out there."

"And you don't think they'll notice it's the same two guys from last week?"

"I think they don't really pay much attention, to be honest." Alex spread his hands. "Come on, remember what Ryback said after he pinned us?"

"'Two more for the meat grinder.'"

Alex nodded. "That's all we are to them. Just another couple of scrubs to feed to the beast. And for all that we tried to fight back, we ran into the same problem everyone else did when he came out: we just blindly attacked, and didn't play to our strengths the right way."

Mars peered at him. "I heard of you, you know," he said flatly. "Big on heart, kinda tough for a geek-turned-wrestler, but you got this rep for jumping without looking sometimes."

Alex looked down. It was kind of true. But he had a philosophy about these things. "There's no reward without risk," he told Mars. "If I wanted to play it safe, I'd never have become a wrestler." He watched Mars carefully as the man folded his arms and thought about it. It was a big risk, trying this and possibly striking out. He, Alex, would be out at least a wrestling weekend's pay making the drive. They'd at least have accommodations. Allen had an aunt and uncle in Chicago that would let them stay a night or two.

"How's this gonna work?" Mars finally asked. "You're not local, I know that, you're from, what, East coast? Virginia, right?"

Alex nodded. "I'm on leave from work. I got an understanding boss. My stay at the hotel's up after tomorrow, but my great-aunt is back in town and she has a spare bedroom I can use, and she's only like twenty minutes outside town. She'll be glad of the company, and Ronnie D said he can use me at his shows this weekend." Mars nodded at that. Ronnie Delamonte was a local promoter, decent rep, but a bit of a scumbag. Then again, name a promoter who wasn't. "So I'll be in town through the weekend at least. After the show on Saturday, I'm packing up and I'll be going up to Chicago. If you want in, hit me up before Sunday morning."

Mars nodded at that. "All right. Seems fair. I gotta think about this. My boss ain't so understanding as yours. I'll see ya at Ronnie's shows."

-END CHAPTER-

Afterword: Well, it's been a while since I've done one of these. This has actually been kicking around my head for a while. Let's see how it goes. Leave feedback if you like. -J2K-


	2. Round Two

"FIGHT OR FLIGHT"

CHAPTER TWO: "ROUND TWO"

A week went by. It was admittedly one of the most dull weeks of Alex's life. Before making this plan with Mars, he was going to be heading home, spending a day off work to recoup from the trip, and then go back to work at his retail job. Now he was still in St. Louis, staying at his great-aunt's house and helping her with various chores and household touch-ups that had needed doing, but she had never gotten around to taking care of because she couldn't move like she used to do. Her dog was glad to have someone else to play with as well, and of course he was roped into walking him when needed.

He got out when he could to consider his course of action. His Twitter and Facebook had gotten a few more hits and follows after his demolition at the hands of Ryback, with plenty of jerks and assholes cracking wise about how fast he got his ass handed to him. There were just as many fans who were nevertheless thrilled for him that he'd gotten on television, if only to be another serving to the perpetually hungry Ryback. He deflected their questions about what it was like, merely advising any of his fans in Missouri to check out his appearances that weekend.

Not much need be said about those indie shows. He got a brief pop from the sparse crowd when they recognized him- and a couple of smart-allecks started a two-man "Feed Me More" chant to taunt him- and he worked a perfectly serviceable singles match against a man named Chris Naples. The two exchanged high-flying offense and wowed the crowd with their skill, and Alex picked up the win with what ended up being a Shooting Star Press DDT. The woozy Naples had stood up just as Alex came back around in mid-air, caught his head, and swung him straight down with the DDT. The move got a huge "_Whoooooaaa!_" and a _"_Holy Shit!" chant.

Backstage, he ran into Mars, who was strapping on his MMA-style gloves. "Impressive move, that," he opined. "That your regular finish?"

Alex shook his head. "Nah. That was an accident, and it'd be way too easy to screw that up or get the aim wrong. Straight-up Shooting Star or a Cannonball Senton usually do the trick." Mars just nodded, gave him a thumbs-up, and headed out for his own match against a striker called Henry Fox. He watched from backstage as Mars and Fox went at it, exchanging hard strikes, before Mars started to take him down with holds and submissions.

As his attire attested, Mars primarily worked more of a ground-based, MMA-influenced style. Fox fought well, but in the end, Mars caught his head, as though for a DDT, then swept the leg and fell _forward_, slamming Fox's back and shoulders into the mat, like a modified STO called an SDT, before pulling him up and clamping his hands together under Fox's arms, wrapping his legs around his body in a modified guillotine. Fox flailed, but soon had to tap out. Mars got his hands raised, simply glaring at the pair of fans giving the "Feed Me More" chants.

Alex was waiting for him backstage. Mars met his gaze steadily as he removed his gloves, and nodded. Alex grinned and told him, "I'll meet you at the hotel I stayed at last weekend. We're going to Chicago."

* * *

They made it to Chicago and crashed just long enough at Alex's aunt and uncle's house to change clothes, take a power nap, and grab their gear. When they arrived at the arena, they were let in with the rest of the local talent, nobody on the WWE's staff seemed to realize who they were. The locals did, however. Nathan Starr, one of said locals, knew Alex from a couple of shows. "What are you two doing here?" he asked them. "They invite you back?"

Alex gave him a smile. "Nope." That was all he said, as he and Mars geared up, then went to find Booker T's office. They were intercepted just outside by Teddy Long, who was coming up the other way, a cameraman following. "Hold up there, playas," the former GM gave them a friendly smile. "Somethin' I can help you with?"

"Matter of fact, there is," Mars gave a thin smirk.

Alex spoke up: "We want another match against The Ryback."

Now Long looked at them more carefully. "Aren't you the two boys he beat up last week?"

They nodded. "Alex Dwight Dunbury." "And Mars Tetch."

Teddy asked in astonishment, "What are you doing back here, then? You didn't have enough of that last week?" He shook his head. "Take it from me, playa, you're a bright young kid, you could have a very full life if you-"

"Don't patronize us," Mars snapped. "No one told us we'd be facing Ryback. Last week, we were thrown into the meat grinder without being told what we were up against."

"That's right." Alex folded his arms. "We can do better than we did last week."

Long raised his eyebrows. "You two think you can actually do what no one else can, and beat Ryback?"

They hesitated, and Alex admitted, "I didn't say that, but there's a world of difference between getting chewed up and spat out by The Ryback, and holding our own against him." He smiled. "Look at it this way, Mr. Long: if we win, it still took two men to beat him. If we lose, but manage to hold our own-"

"-which we will," Mars interjected.

"-then Ryback still looks like a beast by beating two men." Alex spread his hands. "What have you got to lose?"

Long looked at them carefully now. "I suppose ya'll want contracts if you beat him?"

Mars answered, "It'd be nice, but we're just looking to prove we can do better."

This got a nod. "All right, then, playa. I'll go talk to the General Manager on your behalf. But if I can be honest, hope and pray you survive." He entered the GM's office, and Alex and Mars both relaxed.

"This is crazy," Mars muttered. "But it's just crazy enough to work."

"No reward without risk," Alex reminded him.

They waited for what seemed like an eternity, but it was only a few minutes later when the door opened and Teddy Long stepped back out, followed by Booker T. Both of the two young men stood up straight and looked him in the eye. The former five-time WCW Champion looked them up and down, then said, "Are you sure about this?" When they nodded, he held out his hand, shaking first Mars' hand, then Alex's. "All right, then. You got your match." He left down the hall, camera following, but then he paused and turned back to them, just as Alex blew out a tense breath he didn't realize he'd been holding.

"Welp," he remarked to Mars, "let's go get ready for the meat grinder again."

* * *

"Welcome back to _WWE Smackdown_," Michael Cole commented as they returned from commercials, "and we're getting set to see a return match from last week."

"Alex Dunbury and Mars Tetch, two local competitors, last week took on Ryback in a losing effort," Josh Matthews continued, "but have returned this week, looking for another match against the undefeated WWE superstar."

"I don't know what these two men are thinking," Cole admitted, "and I have to wonder if they're crazy or just stupid. Ryback is a human wrecking-ball. Week after week, month after month, here in the WWE, Ryback has been dominating anybody that's been put in the ring with him. I don't know why these two- who got Shell Shocked last week after getting destroyed by Ryback- are coming back. Did they not get the message?"

"Dunbury and Tetch are two hot young prospects, and all they're looking for is the chance to show the world that they can do better," Matthews replied.

Alex and Mars climbed into the ring and huddled up, talking strategy as the announcers went over both the upcoming match, and other things going on within the WWE. "All right," Alex said. "Just like we went over on the way here, yeah? We don't make the same mistakes as last week. We wrestle to our strengths. You ready for this?" Mars nodded and raised a hand for a fistbump, which Alex returned. Lillian Garcia had just finished announcing them when the_ Smackdown_theme faded out and the TitanTron growled:

**"FEED ME."**

Ryback stormed out and onto the stage, snorting and snarling as he raised his arms and snapped them down to set off a blaze of pyro around him. Glaring at the ring, he chomped his teeth as he marched down the ramp. He was the Human Wrecking Ball, a force of destruction that was undefeated, and constantly looking for fresh meat, for a real challenge. He _hungered_ for it. He _craved_it. And here he was, about to mow through the same two mooks that he'd demolished last week. He scowled as he reached the bottom of the ramp-

-which was when Alex slid into a mount position near the ropes, and Mars came vaulting off of his back, somersaulting over the top rope and coming crashing down onto Ryback on the floor. The crowd sat up in surprise, a rising noise of interest coming from them. The big man fell over from the collision, but was on his feet moments later, blinking in perplexity. Alex responded to this by cannoning off the ropes and coming soaring through them in a suicide dive, knocking Ryback down again. Seeing him already sitting up again, Alex ran back into the ring, shot off the ropes again, and this time came flying in over the _bottom_rope, slamming into the seated Ryback and knocking him flat. The speed of the one-two dive combination got a brief pop from the crowd.

"And these two men come at Ryback right out of the gates!" Matthews shouted. "Look at the speed of Alex Dunbury!"

"I think this is the first time we've seen any of these local competitors knock Ryback off his feet," Cole pointed out.

But he wasn't down for long. Ryback was already turning over and getting back up. Seeing this, Alex and Mars looked at each other and rolled back in the ring, quickly discussing their next plan of attack. Ryback climbed into the ring and rushed at them, but they were ready. Mars caught him in the stomach with a kick, doubling him over, just as Alex came off the adjoining ropes with a kick to the side of the head, turning him to the side, just as Mars came past with a kick to the leg, knocking him to one knee, shot off the ropes and jumped up to nail a double-stomp to the back. Alex then caught him with a flipping neckbreaker, and Ryback sat up just in time to eat a low dropkick to the head from Mars. The entire combination happened in just a few seconds, and got another rising ovation from the WWE Universe, who were starting to take a little more interest.

"And _again_these two men catch Ryback off guard with their speed," Cole says. "And against a man with the size and power of Ryback, that's what you want to do."

They both dove atop Ryback, but only got a one count before the Human Wrecking Ball shoved them off. He was on his feet in an instant, swinging both arms for a double clothesline, but they ducked and simultaneously kicked out his legs, driving him to his knees. Mars hooked an arm under his jaw, then hammered his elbow once, twice, three times into his shaven skull before twisting the man's ankles around his own, then turning around and squatting as he reached back and clamped his hands under Ryback's jaw, stretching his neck out. Alex nodded, then ran off the ropes, ran past the two, going back and forth off the ropes once, twice, three times, building up speed as he went, until he flew out with his boots and connected right to the middle of the thick chest of the undefeated superstar. The strike knocked the wind out of him and Mars released his jaw, standing up as Ryback slumped onto his stomach, gasping for air.

"Thought you were gonna curb-stomp us again?" Mars shouted at him. "Let's see how _you_like it!"

"You can hear Mars Tech there," Matthews interjected, "with some choice words for Ryback..."

Cole was aghast. "Why would you try to antagonize a man like Ryback?!"

At a signal from Mars, Alex helped set up Ryback for their next attack, coming off the ropes with speed, delivering one lighting-fast legdrop, then a second, then vaulting over Ryback, springing off the middle rope, and turning in mid-air for a legdrop to the back of the head. Mars nodded, then grabbed one of Ryback's legs. Twisting the calf around his own, he repeated the hold on the other leg, then grasped each of the big man's wrists. Straining, he rocked back once, as Alex called out "Whooooa!" Another rock, another "_Whooooa!_" A third, ("_Whoooooooa!_") and the momentum brought Ryback up onto his knees, grimacing at the hold, his muscles bulging. Seeing he didn't have much time, Alex ran off the ropes again, this time leapfrogging over Mars and hooking an arm around Ryback's head just as Mars released his grip, riding him down face-first with a bulldog. They hurriedly rolled him over and covered again, but once again Ryback kicked out.

"You have to hand it to Alex Dunbury and Mars Tetch," Matthews said admiringly, "they're actually keeping the upper hand!"

"Ryback hasn't been able to get any momentum against these two men," Cole said in astonishment. "Could they actually pull this off?"

Now Ryback was growling audibly as he got to his feet, eyes bulging as he clenched and unclenched his fists. The two young men looked at each other again, and Alex said, "High-Low?" When Mars nodded, they shot off opposite ropes, but Ryback charged forward, out of their path. Fortunately, both Alex and Mars saw it coming and avoided colliding, Mars rolling underneath Alex's dive, and they both rose just in time for Ryback to crash into them with a double-clothesline. Roaring, the big man reached down and hauled Mars up and hurled him into the nearest corner. Barreling in for a spear, Ryback lowered his head and therefore missed the smaller man swinging his body up and snapping his feet down into the back of his neck in passing, so Ryback crashed into the turnbuckle and not him. As he collapsed in a seated position, Mars turned to Alex. "NOW!" Alex charged in and leaped forward, Mars catching him and adding more momentum with an overhead belly-to-belly suplex, the high-flyer tucking his back into a ball as he crashed upside-down and backwards, into the recumbent Ryback.

"Cannonball in the corner by Dunbury," Cole called out as the two young men dragged him out of the corner and hooked a leg each, "could have him here, and_ NO_, Ryback kicks out at two!"

"I have to say, these two men have certainly impressed me in this match," Matthews chuckled. "Against all probability, they actually have Ryback on the ropes."

In the ring, the two young men regrouped again as Ryback rather woozily got to his feet. "He's tough, I'll give him that," Mars grudgingly admitted. "Somehow I doubt the SDT or a guillotine choke is gonna put him down."

"We knew that was a risk coming in," Alex told him. "But we can't let up now." Mars nodded, and they dodged out of the way of Ryback's furious charge, then simultaneously kicked him in the stomach. "Tie him up somehow, use one of your holds, let's combo smash him again." Mars nodded, nailing Ryback with a fierce European uppercut, then twisting one arm back into a hammerlock. He was going to set up for something else, but a snap of the arm broke Mars' grip on his wrist.

"What the hell were you thinkin'?" Ryback demanded, but then he collapsed down as Mars hammered him in the back of the neck with a double axe-handle.

"I was thinkin' your neck couldn't have taken all that abuse without leavin' you open," Mars rejoindered, as he mounted him and peppered him with a few cross-face strikes, then grabbed him under the neck and leaned back with a modified camel clutch. "Come on, Alex!" he called out, then froze as Ryback's arms clamped around his thighs as the big man rose, lifting him up on his shoulders in the electric chair position. Mars flailed his arms for balance as he looked to Alex, who was half-way up the turnbuckle. "Hurry up, man!" he called out again, just as Ryback gave a twitch of his broad shoulders, flicking Mars up over his head and sliding down in front of him-

-only for Ryback's arms to clamp around his waist and then immediately hurl him up and over his head with a release German suplex. Mars crashed down onto his head and shoulders, and Alex stared in horror. Ryback rose again, veins popping his neck and across his scalp as he swiveled to face the high-flyer, who came hurtling off the top-rope with a double-knee press. He'd used this very same move to floor opponents, especially larger ones, all over the independent scene, but Ryback planted his feet, grabbed him by the hips, then slammed him down with brutal force into the mat with a modified power bomb.

"Well, thanks for coming, Alex Dunbury and Mars Tetch," Matthews sighed.

"Yep," Cole agreed, "points for effort, guys, but against the Human Wrecking Ball, the ending was never really in doubt."

Sure enough, in the ring, Ryback stomped a foot and swept his arms, bellowing _"FINISH IT!"_He grabbed Alex and hauled him to his feet, hooking an arm over his head and then dragging him over to Mars, preparing to do the same. Groggily, Mars swatted his arm away and took a half-conscious swing at his head. Ryback blinked in surprise, staring, which allowed Alex to shove him away, likewise staggering semi-conscious. Both young men raised their fists gamely, gesturing for Ryback to "bring it on." The destructive force of nature glared at them in puzzlement, then simply barreled off the ropes and floored them both with a double-clothesline. He wasted little more time, hooking them both and swinging them onto his shoulders, marching around the ring before both were Shell Shocked. As he pinned them, Ryback, for once, didn't stare into the camera and bellow one of his trademark boasts, instead looking down at the two men who had brazenly challenged him.

_"Here is your winner, RYYYYYYBAAAACK!"_ Lillian Garcia announced, as Ryback rose and stretched out his neck with a slight grimace. He stepped over them and turned to the hard camera, shouting out, "That's what I've been looking for! Gimme a challenge!" Pumping his arms, he concluded with the familiar chorus of _"FEED! ME! MORE!"_The crowd took up the chant as he started to leave the ring, marching up the ramp, but he paused as he saw something happening on the TitanTron.

In the ring, Mars, who had been on top of Alex in the double-pin, rolled onto his back and sat up slowly, grimacing and groaning in pain. Alex, too, was sitting up and gingerly clutching his neck and back. Mars, bent double from his own aches and pains, held out a hand, and helped pull his partner to his feet. Some of the crowd started applauding, and then the applause grew. Ryback turned to face the ring, staring as the two young men took in the cheers of the crowd, and then he marched back down and stood before them, his face still set in a forbidding glower.

Then, to everyone's surprise, he grabbed their wrists and raised their hands. He turned them in a circle, then dropped their arms and left the ring, his music thundering through the arena. Alex and Mars watched him go. "What just happened?" Alex muttered weakly.

"I think," Mars smirked, although it might have been a grimace, "we just got over."

* * *

Backstage, Matt Striker caught up with the Human Wrecking Ball. "Ryback, Ryback, please if I could get a few words from you about the match-" He stopped as Ryback halted and stared at him.

"Those two guys," he stated, "gave me exactly what I've been _screaming_ for every week since I got here. I've been looking for a challenge! No one on this roster has the guts to come out and face me, and those two guys actually _asked_to get fed to the meat grinder again! That takes guts. So they got my respect for it." The smile on his face immediately vanished as he growled, "Now go away."

Striker got out of his way as Ryback marched off, then turned to see Alex and Mars being helped through the curtain. "Guys, guys, can I get a few words: why come back and face Ryback again?"

Alex grimaced as he sat on an equipment crate, breathing heavily and in pain. "We wanted a fairer shot at him. Last week, we asked who we were facing, but nobody told us. That ain't right."

"We may not be on the WWE roster," Mars cut in, "but that's just disrespectful to us as wrestlers. If it's gonna be a mystery opponent, at least come out and say so. Don't just blindside us like that."

"So we came back, and we proved tonight," Alex gave a wan smile as he threw an arm around Mars' shoulders, "that we have what it takes to go up against anyone you care to throw at us. Throw us to the meat grinder if you want, but you can be damn sure we'll try to jam it up while we're in there."

"It was a huge risk," Striker pointed out. "Ryback was- _is_- the most dominant undefeated force in the WWE."

"Man, being a pro wrestler is a huge risk," Mars sneered. "Any slam or fall you take could end your career, might even _kill_you. If we wanted to be safe, we'd never have gotten into the business."

"I live my life by the philosophy that there's no reward without risk." Alex stuck his chest out. "So even if it means I burn out faster, I'm not going to pass up opportunities, and if they won't come along, I'll _make them happen_."

"Well, congratulations," Striker said, "because the WWE Universe has been blowing up. Your names have been trending on Twitter and Tout, and you've made a name for yourselves here tonight. I can't speak for Booker T, but if it were up to me, I'd sign you two in a heartbeat."

Alex smiled and gave a thumbs-up, then fist-bumped with Mars as the two got up and left the interviewer, who walked off with the camera crew. They headed for the locker room, and passed a corridor filled with milling WWE superstars. Activity ceased as they approached, all eyes on them. The two men hesitated, advancing slowly, and then they heard the sound of clapping. Kofi Kingston gave them a tight smile as he kept applauding. Beside him, R-Truth looked down at the invisible form of Little Jimmy, then started applauding as well. Rey Mysterio and Sin Cara nodded at them and then started clapping. Then The Miz, to many people's surprise, joined in, then Brodus Clay, and Kaitlyn, and Santino Marella, until most of the hallway was giving them an ovation.

Alex and Mars nodded to everyone as they passed, shaking hands with one or two, until they were able to get to the locker room where the local talent changed. As they went through the door, a voice called out, "Oi!" They turned to see Sheamus regarding them, then giving a smile and a nod. "Make the most of it, eh, fellas?"

* * *

It was a long few days for Alex after that. First the drive back to St. Louis to take Mars home, then the much longer drive back to his own home in Virginia. He avoided checking his Twitter and Facebook on his phone when he stopped for gas, food, or the restroom, as he just needed to decompress after an exhausting trip out to the Midwest. He got a few calls on his cell phone, from promoters and friends congratulating him on his showing on _Smackdown_, but he let a great deal of them go to voicemail.

His roommate sat up when he walked in the door, then stood up. "Dude," he said, pointing at the counter. "I think you'll want to open that."

Alex looked. There, atop the stack of accumulated mail for him, was a large envelope. In the top left corner was the logo for World Wrestling Entertainment.

He opened it and stared in mute incomprehension, until his mind finally snapped out of its shock to read the first few lines.

_Mr. Dunbury,_

_On behalf of World Wrestling Entertainment, I would like to offer you an introductory contract to our Smackdown brand._

-END CHAPTER-

Afterword: So there we have it. "Those two young men" made it through the meat grinder again, and now they've earned respect from a number of people. How awaits them now they're offered contracts? Time will tell. -J2K-


End file.
